Chess, Ethics, and Mental Health
by Sanrodri
Summary: Harry needs to go to Therapy, but he isn't aware of his Therapist's true identity. (For the complete summary, please see the top of Chapter 1.)


_**Summary:** _Harry sleeps 18 hours a day, rarely leaves his room, and has no interest in doing anything. When Hermione has him see Dr. Miller, a wizard and therapist who has firsthand experience with both the war and depression, Harry finally begins to believe that he can feel better. But Dr. Miller's real identity is a mystery to Harry and when it is at last shown to him, the revelation changes everything.

Draco Malfoy suffered from depression and PTSD after the war, which led him to pursue a career in Clinical Psychology so that he may some day help others like himself. He is now a practicing therapist who treats his patients with a glamour on so as keep his identity a secret. When he first meets with Harry Potter, he thinks that he can maintain an objective and professional point of view, but he soon realizes his mistake and vows to show Potter his true face, regardless of the consequences.

_** Notes:** _Thanks to ShortesttDani and ToneeLabradeen

* * *

><p>There were only so many mornings that Harry Potter could stand to wake up to before he eventually gave up on work and friends and decided to wake in the afternoons. The change didn't make him happier, but at least it made his misery a little more bearable. He woke up at whatever time he fancied, ate whenever he pleased, and watched the telly until the early hours of the morning before asleep again. He rarely left his bed, much mess less his room. In fact, if it weren't for a meddling, bushy-haired friend, he might have lived that way until he wasted away.<p>

An abrasive knock sounded at the front door, causing Harry to groan and turn up the volume on the telly. The doorbell rang soon after, and Harry simply raised the volume even higher, which turned out to be a mistake, because less than a minute later, Hermione Granger was pushing open his bedroom door.

"Now before you say anything, I used the spare key you gave me and let myself in. I knocked and rang first, so don't go saying that I'm invading your privacy. Harry, for Merlin's sake… For all I knew you were dead. We haven't heard from you in weeks! Have you been in here the whole time?" Hermione's concern and disappointment were both clear in her voice.

Harry simply raised the volume higher, making Hermione huff. She tore the remote from his hand, turned off the TV, and faced him with pursed lips and crossed arms. He rolled over. He didn't have the energy to deal with everyday life anymore, much less all that was Hermione Granger.

"Harry, enough is enough! I don't know what you're feeling or what's going through your head because you won't talk to anyone!" Harry refused to respond. Instead he pulled the covers over his head. It was a childish move, but maybe then Hermione would get the message that he wanted to be left alone.

"Fine. I'm leaving a business card on top of the remote by the television set so that you have to at least touch it. I already made an appointment for you. It's for today at 7pm. That's in three hours. You don't need to shower; you don't even need to get dressed. You just need to use the floo. I'm leaving some floo powder by the fireplace. This man is smart, Harry. He's smart and he's discrete. Go see him."

The door to his bedroom closed, and a few seconds later, the front door opened and closed again.

Harry didn't move from under the covers. He didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. He'd only been awake for an hour, but maybe he'd take another nap…. He closed his eyes and relaxed into his mattress, sinking into the warmth.

* * *

><p>Harsh light and cold air woke him. There were people talking angrily around him and one was pulling on his arm. Harry didn't understand what was happening.<p>

"HARRY JAMES POTTER. GET UP THIS INSTANT."

"'Mione, leave him alone! He'll go when he's ready."

"Shut it, Ron! He's going to go whether he likes it or not. "

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose…?"

As Harry's eyes adjusted and he put on his glasses, he saw a frazzled Hermione pulling on him stubbornly.

"The appointment is in 15 minutes, and you still need to fill out the paperwork!" He sat up finally, groaning all the way as he slowly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Why was she doing this? "I swear on Merlin's grave, Potter! If you don't get up this instance I will resort to violence!"

Harry reluctantly got out of bed and let Hermione lead him to the floo. Years of friendship had taught him when there was no longer any point in resisting. She led him into the living room and got into the fireplace with him.

"Dr. Miller's office!"

They stepped out into a quiet sitting room that was filled with plush armchairs, velvet sofas, and soothing music. It seemed to be tailored to have a calming effect on its visitors, but it only made Harry feel bored. He sat in the armchair closest to the fireplace, a crimson chair with silver detailing, and flopped back, not caring about where he was or who Hermione wanted him to see.

"Harry, I need you to fill out this questionnaire. I will fill out the rest of the paperwork. You only need to answer this one, ok? It will hardly take any time at all."

She gave him a clipboard and a pen, but his eyes could only barely make out the words. When was the last time he'd had to read?

Ron sat on the floor next to him and motioned for Harry to hand him the clipboard. The brunette happily obliged.

"Alright," said Ron. "On a scale of one to five, have you experienced any disturbances in your regular sleeping patterns such as sleeping too much or too little?"

"Five," Harry mumbled.

Together, they quickly went through the entire questionnaire until there was nothing left to do but wait. At 7pm on the dot, a bespectacled man came into the room and asked for Harry to follow him. He said hello, shook Harry's hand, and led him away from Hermione and Ron. It was at this point that Harry started to feel anxious. He gripped the wand in his pajamas and took it out, needing the feeling of the wood in his hand to steady his nerves. To his surprise, the man made no move to stop him. He only continued walking until they reached an oak door that led to what appeared to be another sitting area; though this one seemed to be in a small office. It had two armchairs, and a small table in between them had a box of tissues on it. Paintings hung on the walls, and the floor was made of smooth marble. It seemed pretentious to Harry, but the man he was with seemed safe enough, and he knew Hermione might murder him if he left, so….

Harry sat down and the man sat across from him.

"Hello, Harry. Do you know where you are and why you are here?"

Harry shrugged.

"I'm guessing therapy."

"That's correct. I prefer my patients to come in of their own volition, but your friends made a very good case, so I decided to allow them to bring you in if, and only if, you refused to come on your own. This will be the last time I allow anyone to take away your freedom, I promise."

The man in front of Harry seemed very intelligent, but also very humble and welcoming. This annoyed Harry. The man had light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and average features. There was a shimmer about him that told Harry that the man had a glamour in place.

"I see that you have noticed my face. I am using a glamour, but I have not made it perfect, so as to remind my clients that the face they see is not who I truly am. I do not wish to deceive anyone in any way. However, due to my own personal life and the high profile of most of my clients, I find it beneficial to wear this. All of my clients have the option to wear a glamour as well, so as to not be recognized in the waiting room, but you are not required to do so."

Harry shrugged.

"There was nobody in your waiting room."

The man gave Harry a soft, reassuring smile.

"That is because my practice closes at 5pm. Again, I was swayed by the case your friends made, so I am allowing you certain liberties that I do not allow others. Now then. My name is Dr. Miller. I earned my degree in Psychology at a muggle University, and-"

"I'm sorry, doctor, you seem fine, but I don't like therapy. Just let me sit here until the time's up, and then I can go back home."

"I see. While I do not want to force you to do anything, I would very much like to help you. So what if we make a deal?"

Harry glared at Dr. Miller. Did he think he was child? He didn't need to make a deal. He was an adult, and if it weren't for the fact that it would hurt Hermione and Ron even more, he'd leave in an instant.

"No deal."

Dr. Miller frowned, and Harry felt a sweet satisfaction that he hadn't felt in a while. He might not be able to leave, but at least Dr. Miller wouldn't be happy, either. At least he wasn't looking at him in a calm, _happy_ manner.

"Let's play chess."

"What?" Well that was random.

"Let's play chess." The blue-eyed man waved his wand, and a chess board appeared on the small table between them. "We might as well do something to pass the time. Have you played before?"

Harry scoffed and made the first move.

They played in silence for a few minutes and then…

"My apologies, Harry. Checkmate." He didn't sound the least bit sorry.

Harry looked at the board, sure that the doctor had made a mistake but, no, he really had lost. Nobody could beat him that quickly. Except, of course-

"Ron is the only person who has ever beaten me that quickly."

"He sounds like a formidable player. Do you two play often?"

"No. We haven't played since…" Harry went silent. When _was_ the last time he had played with Ron? Blimey….when was the last time he had _spoken _to Ron other than earlier that very day? He looked at Dr. Miller, who was patiently putting the pieces back to their initial squares. "Well, I can't actually remember. Probably not since we first became Aurors."

"That's a shame. Chess is a lovely game that both excites and challenges the mind. Perhaps you two can play soon."

"Yeah. Maybe." He didn't actually think he would though. Setting up a day, time…getting showered and dressed and them having to make conversation just to play a game. No. It was too exhausting to even think about.

"Shall we play again?"

Harry sighed, but this time, put more effort into playing. This time, the game lasted 15 minutes before Dr. Miller took Harry's king.

"Bloody hell… Ron really would love playing against you."

"Perhaps. But it would be more interesting if you played with him and had him teach you a few things. Then maybe you could go more than 15 minutes without losing." The man's eyes shined playfully.

Harry was shocked. Had the _therapist_ just made a joke? He looked at the man, who was smirking, and helped him reset the pieces back on the board. Harry looked at the clock. Only 25 minutes had passed.

"Again?" Harry was tired. He both wanted to play and didn't want to play. "If not, we can perhaps do something else?"

"I'm tired. I'm sorry. I'm really tired. I just want to go to sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you not sleep well last night?"

Harry gave a dry laugh.

"I've slept a good 18 hours out of the past 24."

"I see. So then, you can't have any rational reason to be tired, yet you feel exhausted."

"Yes. I don't know what it is. It's like…Like all the sleepless nights I had in the past have all come together, and now I need to make up for them. It's stupid."

"You don't like sleeping 18 hours a day?"

The question surprised Harry. It was something that he had never even considered. _Did _he like sleeping that much every day?

"No. Somehow, that makes me tired, too." Everything made him tired.

"You know, if you would like, I can help you to not feel so tired all the time. I'm not a miracle worker, but I can definitely help."

Oh. He had been working up to this the whole time. He was manipulating him.

"You've been manipulating me this entire time."

"I've been steering you, yes. I wouldn't use the word 'manipulate'. It has a negative connotation."

"So that's your job, then? Manipulating people into thinking they feel better?" Harry was livid. He stood up, ready to leave.

"One second, please, Harry. I promise to be completely honest." Harry turned toward him. "Yes. My job is to manipulate. However, it is not to manipulate you into thinking you are better, but rather, manipulating you to speak to me, and then, perhaps, to help open your mind to alternatives. You don't have to live how you do right now. You don't have to be so sad that it physically hurts. You don't have to be exhausted by your emotions and your thoughts. You don't have to be anxious and scared. You don't have to hide." Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Dr. Miller cut him off. "Hold on. Full disclosure. I'm not just a well-meaning man with a degree nor am I a man who just wants to get paid for an hour of talking. I'm a man who has been exactly where you are and who somehow managed to get out of that hole. I'm not supposed to talk about myself and I'm not supposed to tell you how to feel, but you are stubborn, Harry, so you are forcing me to be as well. You feel helpless. You feel unfixable. Well, fine. Maybe you are. But maybe you aren't, and if there is any possibility that you could one day feel even an ounce better, then don't you think that playing chess twice a week with me is worth it? I promise to go easy on you."

Dr. Miller smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, and it was obvious how important this was to him. Was it important to Harry? Did he care enough about himself anymore? But feeling better…he'd do anything if he could feel better.

"Alright. But today, I'm leaving early."

"Fair enough." Dr. Miller stood and shook Harry's hand. "I'll see you on Thursday at the same time?"

"Uhm…what's today?" Would he even be able to come back? Did he have the strength?

"It's Monday, Harry."

"Right. Ok, thanks. See you Thursday."

Harry turned to leave, unsure of what he had just agreed to.


End file.
